


One in 14 Million

by tisfan



Series: MCU Kink Bingo [26]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Cloak of Levitation (Marvel), First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Slash, The Cloak Ships It, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 21:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14922968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Keeping secrets is lonely work. Two men, with the worst, most desperate secret between them, find comfort in each other.Or: The one where the Cloak of Levitation ships it.





	One in 14 Million

**Author's Note:**

> For my solo MCU Kink Bingo card G2 - Stephen Strange/Tony Stark
> 
> Translated into Chinese [ Here](http://zenggaoxiaowangzirdj.lofter.com/post/1f6b10b0_12dfe1521)

The Sanctum wasn’t the sort of place that made itself receptive to strangers. It wasn’t quite invisible to the bustle and stir and populace of New York City, but if you were there casually, the building would encourage you to walk away. 

A determined visitor could reach the front door, put actually gaining the attention of the sorcerers who lived there was tricky. The Sanctum valued their privacy and had a fine sense of what its inhabitants would consider important.

Which meant when there was a booming knock against the ancient door at three in the morning, Stephen actually looked up from his books, sighed, and got up to answer the door. Levi, who’d been draped over Stephen’s lap like an afghan, swirled to attention and fastened himself neatly over Stephen’s shoulders. Stephen allowed himself a brief smile and patted his cloak with one hand, not commenting on how utterly ridiculous they looked together, whenever Stephen was wearing jeans and a comfortable sweatshirt.

Levi was sensitive.

Stephen got to the door and struggled with the knob; it was huge and clunky and slick from generations of wizard hands and his own hands didn’t have the best grip. Levi gave a shudder from the effort of not helping, but the cloak had learned over time that Stephen prefered to do for himself, when he could manage it.

Door open finally, Tony Stark practically fell into his arms. “Tony!” 

“You said, you said, you said,” Tony was panting for breath, struggling to speak, “if I need anything.”

“Yes, of course,” Stephen said. “Come in.” If it had been anyone else, Stephen would have slung them straight back to the library, but Tony had a loathing of portals, and he was in bad enough shape that Stephen couldn’t inflict it on him, not right then. There was a seldom-used parlor right beyond the staircase, and Stephan urged Tony gently in that direction.

“Are you drunk?” Tony reeked of expensive scotch to the point that it was difficult to determine how much he’d drunk and how much he’d bathed in.

“If I’m not, it’s a criminal waste of booze,” Tony said. He wasn’t staggering, not quite, but Stephen knew better to trust that. Tony had gotten very good at hiding his state of intoxication, even before he’d become a superhero and literally taken on the world’s problems as his personal responsibility.

Stephen directed Tony into a plush chair near the fireplace, hoping that Wong hadn’t left any devices or crumpled bits of spell components in it. He concentrated for a moment and summoned a cup.

“I’m not drinking any of your damn weed juice, Strange,” Tony protested. 

“And I would not ask you to,” Stephen told him. “Just put it up to your mouth.”

“It’s empty,” Tony said, turning the cup over, then he shrugged and did what Stephen said. He about choked when the evening’s booze came pushing back out through his system, dripping from his mouth into a cup. “Good Christ, what the hell is that?”

“Expensive scotch, I imagine,” Stephen said. “Don’t worry, it’s perfectly sanitary. You could drink it again, if you wanted.”

“Ok, never let anyone with an eating disorder know you have one of these,” Tony said. He pushed the cup under his mouth again and the cup filled itself, almost to the point of overflowing, and Stephen had to waft the excess away. By the time Tony filled -- and Stephen emptied -- two and a half more cups, Stephen was starting to believe it was a minor miracle that Tony wasn’t dead. “Also, that’s a hell of a party trick.”

“I’m saving your life, Stark,” Stephen told him. “If I have to talk to you while you’re drunk and cuddly, I may have to murder you.”

“I don’t get cuddly when I’m drunk,” Tony protested.

“Oh, so I just woke up with you wrapped around my legs last time, that was completely by accident?”

“You have stupidly long legs, wizard,” Tony said.

“I’m not a wizard,” Stephen retorted, rolling his eyes. “Wizards are one-trick ponies.”

“Where you have about a million tricks, don’tcha?” Tony spit one more mouthful into the cup, looked at it for a moment, then drank about half of it back down. “Not drunk, just can’t… can’t be sober, not tonight, Stephen.”

Levi swooped off Stephen’s shoulders and landed on Tony with a thud, almost crushing Tony into the chair. 

“You and your ridiculously affectionate cape. Decidedly a wizard,” Tony said. 

“You went for a walk again tonight?” Stephen made a face; he’d thought Tony was getting over that obsession.

“Peter’s fine,” Tony said, shivering, sinking into the chair, letting Levi wrap him up in the cloak’s equivalent of a comforting hug. 

“I am fine, as well, as you see,” Stephen said. He braced himself and then offered a hand to Tony. He hated it when people looked at his hands, hated them seeing what had happened to him, the pity or disgust, the way they tried so hard not to see, not to comment. It would be easier if they’d just  _ deal  _ with it. He had. 

Mostly.

Tony caught Stephen’s hand between his own. Tony’s hands were freezing, the knuckles swollen and the skin chapped, one nail torn down to the quick. Stephen sighed, drew a little circle on the back of Tony’s hands and whispered a tiny bit of power into it, healing the minor aches, soothing the skin.

“You’re fine,” Tony repeated, and then he was shivering with emotion, not the cold. “You’re  _ alive _ .” Tony rocked himself back and forth in the chair, squeezing Stephen’s hands gently. Stephen let himself be drawn in until he was standing in front of Tony, letting him sob into Stephen’s belly, arms wrapped tight around Stephen’s hips.

“Bad dream?” Stephen cupped Tony’s head, keeping him tight against Stephen’s ribs, despite the tears that were soaking in his sweatshirt, running his fingers through Tony’s hair.

Tony shook his head. “Pepper called,” he said, sniffling. He pulled back to wipe his nose on the cuff of his shirt, disdaining the conjured handkerchief that Stephen offered. “She… she’s pregnant.”

Stephen’s fingers froze, suddenly aching. “Oh,” he said, very gently, trying to conceal the way his heart fumbled around in his chest. “I didn’t know you two were back together.”

Tony blinked and backed out of the embrace. “We’re  _ not _ . She’s… she’s uh, apparently she’s been seeing Happy for a while now. It’s great, it’s fine, I’m over it. It was just… that morning that I met you, she and I had been… well, she never wanted any children of mine, anyway.” He tapped absently at the arc reactor, no longer an implant, that housed the Iron Man nanites. “I had a dream, before that day, that she was pregnant with my child, and I had so much hope, Stephen, for everything. For us, for the world. Then Thanos came, and he tore everything apart, and she doesn’t even  _ remember _ .” 

“Sometimes I think it was a mistake,” Stephen admitted, “letting you and Peter keep your memories.” 

“No, I told you, no, I can’t be prepared for a threat if I don’t know what it is. I don’t need to be swaddled in cotton, I just… sometimes I need to make sure the only other people who know… the ones I can talk to… are okay.  _ Okay _ ?”

“Thanos isn’t coming back, Tony.”

“You don’t know that,” Tony protested. “The stones can’t be destroyed. Hell, you’re still wearing yours around your neck. Someone else could come back and put the whole thing back together--”

“That would take centuries,” Stephen said, soothing. “The entire universe got a second chance. Only a handful of us know what really happened, no one else knows the stones even exist anymore.”

“I wonder,” Tony said. “How many times has this happened? Your people have been guarding the Time Stone for centuries. Red Skull was seeking the tesseract. My father… I don’t think this is precisely new.”

“We’re a small cabal, Tony, but that’s what we have to do. Keep the secrets, stand alert, trust each other. I know how you feel about secrets, but this one is… for the good of the world. And I know, it’s lonely, holding the fate of everything in your hands.”

“At least I have you,” Tony said, and he looked up at Stephen, those doe-eyes wet and full and full of beautiful agony.

“You do,” Stephen said. “Perhaps even moreso than you know.”

Tony chewed his lip a moment, then stood, resolutely. Like he was treading too near quicksand and had to back away. “I should go,” he said. “Thanks for listening to me whine again. I do it too often, you’d think I’d get over it.”

“Tony, I don’t think this is the sort of thing you just-- get over,” Stephen suggested. “Stay, if you want, I can--”

Tony’s eyes went even wider, his gaze darted down to Stephen’s mouth, and then back up. 

And then he staggered as Levi put a corner in the middle of Tony’s back and shoved him into Stephen’s embrace.

Kissing close, now, and all Stephen would have to do is tip his head.

“I think your carpet’s trying to play matchmaker,” Tony suggested, as if he was going to make a joke, but also, giving Stephen the opening, trying so hard to make it look like a casual remark.

“I wonder where Levi might have gotten that idea,” Stephen said. He stroked one broken thumb down the side of Tony’s face, feeling the wet streak of his tears, drying them. “Will you stay, with intent, if I ask you again.”

Tony wet his lips, pushed up onto his toes. His eyelids fluttered closed. “Ask me again.”

“Stay. I would like it if you would stay,” Stephen said. “You’re not the only one who wakes in the night, who wants to make certain that you’re okay. That you’re  _ alive _ .”

“Are you going to kiss me, wizard, or just babble?”

“Sorcerer,” Stephen corrected. “I have many more than just one trick.”

“Prove it.” 

And Tony closed the gap. 

Tony’s kiss was achingly tender. So soft and sweet. He clutched at Stephen’s shoulders, pushing himself up until Stephen responded, brushing his mouth over Tony’s. Stephen groaned, pulling Tony closer, ignoring the pain in his hands, because all he wanted was to  _ hold on _ .

Stephen kissed Tony Stark, standing in the parlor, the fireplace roaring, the night cold outside, and Stephen was kissing the man he’d come to know, to respect, and to love in fourteen million, six hundred and give possible futures.

A one in fourteen million chance, and it had all been worth it, for this one, perfect moment.


End file.
